


I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling

by nanasekei



Series: Happy Steve Bingo 2019 Fills [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, POV Tony Stark, Pining, Pining Tony Stark, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 06:21:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20869610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanasekei/pseuds/nanasekei
Summary: As Steve discovers the internet, he also discovers old memes.





	I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Partially inspired by [this post](https://elcorhamletlive.tumblr.com/post/182905359950). Written for Happy Steve Bingo, for the square "social media".

As Tony and Bruce climb out of the lab, the sound that echoes in the room is so foreign that it takes Tony a moment to realize it’s a laugh, and one more moment to realize it’s Steve’s.

At the top of the staircase, Tony sees him on the couch, and yeah, he’s laughing. Not politely chuckling or awkwardly forcing a laugh, mind you, but actually, genuinely having a belly laugh, complete with a pink flush all over his face, his eyes turning into tiny blue streaks as he wipes them with back of his hand, catching his breath.

It’s—well. It’s a vision, to be blunt.

“Sounds like you’re having fun,” Bruce says, and that’s the understatement of the year, because Steve looks downright delighted. He struggles to catch his breath, still grinning helplessly as he looks away from his phone.

“Oh,” he says, as if he’s just realized their presence. His flush deepens, Tony notices. Steve has kind of an ugly flush, that shows up in red spots coming up from his neck as well, instead of sticking prettily to his cheeks. Tony sticks his hands in his pockets to control his itch to touch it. “Hi.”

“Hey, Cap.” Clint throws himself on the couch next to him and leans, trying to take a pick at his phone. It’s rude, but Tony can’t really blame him, because he’s one step away from offering actual money to find out what made Steve laugh like that. “What are you looking at?”

Steve controls his grin into a more schooled smile, but he still _ perks up, _and in a moment Tony is right behind the couch, leaning forward to place his hands over the cushion. From behind Steve’s broad, sculpted-by-the-Gods back, he catches a glimpse of a Twitter feed.

“I was trying to learn how to use, hmm—Twitter, right?” He pronounces it correctly, which really shouldn’t make Tony want to kiss him in congratulations, but it absolutely does. “And I found this, this page…” His face twists in an effort not to laugh. “You’re not gonna believe it. Here, I’ll show you. You guys need to see this.” He holds up the phone a little higher for Tony and Bruce to see.

As he types – a little slower than most people would – a name into the search bar, Tony’s heart kind of breaks.

“It’s genius,” Steve says, as the account opens. “I was just looking at this one—”

“Wait,” Clint interrupts. “Are you serious?”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks, with a little frown between his eyebrows that Tony’s hand itches to smooth it out. “I know it seems silly, but it’s really funny.” He turns, and, at Clint’s gaze, grows more indignant. “The pictures are very good and the captions are really creative.”

“I know,” Clint says bluntly. “It’s Dog Rates, Cap. They have over eight million followers. It’s a huge account. Everyone knows it.”

Steve’s frown vanishes, but it’s replaced by something a lot worse: surprise, and then a clear, raw disappointment that he does his best to mask. His posture deflates, his hand going to the back of his neck, rubbing it.

“Oh,” he says, and he’s back to his usual man-out-of-time voice, probably feeling old and stupid, the excitement from before already a distant memory. 

It’s legitimately like someone turned off the sun. So, really, nobody can blame Tony for saying, “I didn’t know it.”

Steve looks at him. “Really?”

“_Really_?” Clint asks, a thousand times more skeptical, and Tony gestures flippantly at him.

“Not all of us have free time to troll on Twitter, Barton,” he says. Then he turns to Steve, who’s watching him with wide blue eyes that almost make him forget how to form words. “So? What’s all the fuss about?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve says, a hesitant smile already blooming on his face. He turns further to show his phone exclusively to Tony, signaling for him to lean further so their heads are closer, which isn’t a configuration Tony minds, at all. “See, it’s very simple – they post a picture, and give it a rate. At first, I thought it seemed a little harsh, because, really, which dog should ever get a low rate, right? But, see—all their rates start out at ten.”

He proceeds to show some of his favorite posts. Tony’s seen them all, either from following the account or from random dog memes Rhodey sends him sometimes, but he plays along, _ ooooh-_ing and _ awwwww_-ing at the right moments, and in no time Steve is grinning again, glad to be explaining something to someone else for a change, feeling in the loop.

Some people could say what Tony’s doing is lying, but he disagrees, because he isn’t faking it at all when he grins back.

* * *

After Steve finds out Dog Rates, it doesn’t take him long to find Thoughts of Dog, which he finds even more delightful. He shows it to Tony during breakfast, sitting next to him on the counter as they go through the tweets together.

“This is amazing,” Steve says. He’s at that stage where it seems like his cheeks hurt from smiling. Tony thinks he should look like this more often. Maybe all the time. “When they explained it at SHIELD, I thought the internet was more of a tool, like a huge encyclopedia. And obviously, it is, but it didn’t occur to me it could be…”

“Fun?” Tony asks.

Steve looks at him and smiles. Tony is quite fond of that sequence of events.

“Yeah,” he says. When he smiles like that, a dimple shows up in his cheek.

Tony isn’t even a dog person, but it couldn’t matter _ less._

* * *

Steve eventually expands his knowledge of animal memes and pages to include cats, which means Tony starts receiving lots of videos that were, at one point, considered the pinnacle of internet humor, with cats playing piano and sliding over wood floors.

Steve finds out about Grumpy Cat a few hours before he learns she’s dead. In between, he texts Tony a bunch of pictures of her with a message reading “_this is how you look at morning team meetings_”.

Tony honest-to-God _ giggles_, because, really, he’s a lost cause.

A few moments afterwards, he receives a lengthy message of Steve saying he just found the cat in the picture had died, but she had apparently lived a long and happy life and so he hoped Tony wouldn’t be sad by finding this out.

Since Tony doesn’t immediately answer (because there’s a marching band leading what is apparently an eternal fourth of July parade in his chest), Steve then apologizes for sending the memes in the first place, and, look—if nobody _ sees _Tony sighing, nobody can prove anything, regardless of what the dopey smile on his face might suggest.

* * *

On a remarkable occasion, Steve sends in a “important Avenger news – waiting for your thoughts, Iron Man” e-mail, and, when Tony opens it, he’s rick-rolled in front of his entire office.

“This is the cringiest shit I’ve ever seen,” Clint, who’s there to get suit upgrades, says.

“Shut up,” Tony says.

“SHIELD has informed him we think it’s best if he doesn’t have a Twitter account,” Natasha, who’s there to have lunch with Pepper, says, and even through her supreme spy training Tony can tell she has to try hard to keep an even expression. “For his… reputation.”

“Oh, _ shut up_,” Tony repeats. “It would only make him more popular, and you know it.”

Natasha shrugs with a knowing smile. “To some people, maybe.”

Tony looks away, his face heating.

* * *

Eventually, Steve confronts him about it.

They’re on the couch, right after what wasn’t exactly a date, but also wasn’t definitely _ not _a date either—Steve had said he was hungry, and Tony had asked if he wanted to get dinner, but then Steve said “sure, there’s pasta in the fridge”, and they had ended up eating in the living room, plates full of large portions of heated up pasta from lunch (which, against all odds, tasted really good).

Now they’re on the same couch, bodies lax and full of carbs, and sitting pretty close to each other already, although Tony does take advantage of any opportunity to slip a little closer. They’re watching as Steve scrolls through a series of images on his phone, all historical pictures or paintings with a photoshopped, photobombing squirrel.

Tony chuckles, because he barely remembers this one, and because Steve seems happy and relaxed and this makes it easier for him to laugh.

“How come you don’t know any of these things?” Steve asks with a raised eyebrow. “You work with tech.”

“Machines don’t make memes,” Tony says. Then, after a second, he adds: “At least not good ones.”

“Your profile is one of the most followed of all time on Twitter and Instagram,” Steve counters.

“Wow, okay—cyber-stalking much?” Tony replies, which makes Steve’s cheeks grow a little pink, but he doesn’t seem too embarrassed, just a little shy as he opens a small smile. Tony takes the opportunity to nest a little closer.

“I was just looking,” Steve says, his eyes landing on the point of contact between his and Tony’s shoulders. They’re so close now they’re basically leaning against each other, and Tony is about to retreat and mumble an excuse to leave and save himself the embarrassment, when Steve adds: “It’s nice. That—that you don’t mind me sharing things.” Then, to Tony’s bafflement, he comes closer and leans his head on Tony’s shoulder. “There’s so much to catch up on. Sometimes it’s nice to—to feel like I’m in the loop for a change.”

There’s a knot in Tony’s throat, and yet his body is reeling, completely taken by the warmth of Steve’s frame cuddled up against him.

There must be something in Steve’s eyes, too – something more than what his words say, something brighter and warmer that’s almost blinding as he stares at Tony, something that makes Tony confident enough to lean forward and press a kiss on the top of Steve’s head.

“No problem,” he muffles against Steve’s hair.

Steve hums pleasantly and then asks Tony if he’s seen the world’s fastest skateboarding bulldog yet.

Of course, Tony hasn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware some of these memes weren't that old in 2012, so let's just pretend A1 happened in 2019 instead.
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments. You can also [reblog the fic on tumblr](https://elcorhamletlive.tumblr.com/post/188094536235/i-just-wanna-tell-you-how-im-feeling-nanasekei).


End file.
